The silent chill of a late winter night and the light wool coat she was wearing made the cold creep under her skin. Shivering, Amelia wrapped the coat around her tighter with each burst of wind that came rushing by.  John was quite a few feet in front of her as he swiftly walked, so they “wouldn't have to wait in the line.” Ever since they left the house there’s been this unspoken distance between them and with each step he took and each gust of wind it seemed to drive itself deeper.  As they walked the snowflakes fell gracefully coating everything in a thin layer of fluff. While the lamps illuminated the street with a warm orange and then a deep teal shadow enveloping it. The bell chimed against the door as John walked through and then again as Amelia followed after.  They headed towards a table for two, that was three tables from the back, and to the left; the place they sat every time they came. Everything was set and pristine, the pearly white table cloth lay flat underneath the array of dinnerware. The lamp over head glistened against the polished silverware and the rim of the drinking glasses.  The napkins were meticulously folded and the aroma of freshly baked bread sitting in the middle of the table encompassed the room. As they sat down Amelia grabbed the napkin and started unfolding it; once it was unraveled she laid it on her lap and patted it down. She sits up straight and brushes her wavy black hair behind her ears. John outstretched his arm to grab the menu and to make sure their go to meal was there.

The waitress headed over towards them and asked, “What would you two like to drink today?”

“I’ll have a bourbon,” John answered.

“And I’ll just have a water,” Amelia said.

“Have you decided what to eat?”

“Yes, actually we’d both like to get the blackened salmon,” John responds.

“Alright, that’ll be right out,” she nodded her head and left.

John reached for the bread in the middle and started digging in.  He took his knife, grabbed a very generous amount of butter, and smeared it across his piece.  He took such a generous amount that when Amelia looks over into the container there was almost nothing left, ‘great.’ she thought.

 Amelia grabbed her own piece of bread and while she started cutting it in half.  She looked up to see John stuffing his face with bread like it was his last meal on earth.  He caught her staring and decided to speak up, “So how was today?”

Amelia twirled her knife around and paused, pondering over the day, “...It was alright, nothing really new happend, you know? Same old same old.”

“Nothing interesting happened? Nothing at work happened or anything?” he asked.

“No, not really,” she answered.

He turned his head and scoffed, “You always do this.”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Whenever I try to talk to you, it’s always the same vague answers, but then you go complaining about how we never talk like we used to.”

‘Is he being serious? All you asked was about my day and you expect me to talk about my moral dilemmas or some shit?’ she thought.  Instead, she spoke up and said, “Nothing happened at work. It’s not like I can change that,”

“So, everyday everything happens the exact same?”

Amelia’s eyebrows raised as she stared at him. “Obviously not, but there isn't anything interesting happening enough to talk about,”

Sighing, John runs his hand through his rugged hair, “You could at least not say the same words every damn time.”

Astonished, Amelia asked, “Well when you ask me questions like that what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, ‘Works been so repetitive I feel like nothing's new, It’d be nice to go on a vacation with you to change things up,’ or ‘Nothing’s been new with me, how about yourself?”

Amelia rolls her eyes, “Of course that’d be what you want me to say. Sure, let’s make it all about you.”

John put his hand to his chest, “I’m not trying to make this about me. You’re the one who said your life is too boring to talk about.”

Her face flushes. “Excuse me? It’s not like your helping the situat-” Amelia takes a deep breath in and says, “You know what? Whatever. Let’s just drop this.”

John’s eyes narrowed, “What? No. What were you just about to say? Say what you were going to say.”

“I’m not going to say it because if I did you wouldn’t even listen.”

“What do you mean? I’m listening to you right now.”

Amelia crosses her arms. “You might be listening to me, but you're not going to hear what I’m actually saying.  You’re just going to make it about me having my own issues and ignore what I really have to say.”

“Just say it,” he demands leaning forward in his seat.

Amelia surveys him up and down before saying, “Fine.  Since my life is so boring, let’s look around and see the who the biggest person in my is life huh? How about that?”

“So I’m the problem? Okay. The way I see it is the person who has the most control in your life is you, Amelia,” John jabbed his finger towards her and then back to himself, “Not me.”

Her face screwed up and her lip trembled as she leans forward to face John. “See, you’re doing it right now!! I knew you’d make it about how it's only my issues.  She pauses for a moment her eyes welling up, “Aren’t we supposed to be a couple?”

Taken aback, John looks at her for a minute, but she turns her head away.  He reaches for her hand across the table and when he does she brushes her hand past him.  “Talk to me,” John professed, but Amelia sits there staring down at her half eaten piece of bread.

“Come on, just say something to me” he moves his head down to try to catch a glimpse of her facial expression, but it was no use. “Please, how am I supposed to know what’s going on if you don’t say anything?”

Amelia flinches at that remark and John can see her face filled with resent.  Frustration wells up inside of him, so he raises his voice and snapped, “What’d I say wrong now? Godda-,”

The waitress comes through with both of hands full of their drinks and meal;  she glances between the two of them and sets down the food. “Here’s your water miss, and a bourbon for the gentlemen, and then the salmon for both.”

“Thank you,” John responds.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes it will be, thanks.”
“Alright, let me know if you need anything else later,” the waitress turns and heads back.

John starts to cut into his food; the clinking of the silverware and the occasional cough were the only sounds audible over the low murmur of the dinning area.  Amelia shifts in her seat as she taps her nail on the side of her glass. John tries to ignore it and focuses in on eating his food instead, but the silence between was filled with static and the tapping only increased the tension.  Making every movement and sound only escalate it, swelling up until it could only burst. John pushed his chair forwards leaning close to Amelia. Startled by the sudden movement she looks up and they look into each other's eyes. John speaks up and says “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

Anger crossed her face as she pressed her lips together and furrowed her eyebrows.  “You seriously aren’t listening to me.”

“It because you never tell me anything, you don’t even try to let me in.”

“Yeah because whenever I do you just shut me down!  We can’t even enjoy dinner without it becoming like this.”  Amelia gestures her hands outwards, “Can we really not do anything without it turning into a fi-”

“I guess we can’t because all I did was ask you about your day at work and you couldn’t even answer me on it!” John yells.

Amelia stood up and slammed her hand on the table. “You’re not even making sense! I didn’t start this fight you did! Now you’ve caused this huge scene.  You’re the one who won’t listen to me! This isn’t my fault it y-”

“This is my fault now?!  Didn't you just talk about how I’m always making it about me?  Well now you’re the one trying to do that. So you can pick and choose when it can be about me, but I can’t?” John sneered.  

“You’re missing the poin-”

“Am I now?! Am I reall-” John’s mouth snapped shut.

Amelia picked up her water glass and slammed it on the ground;  There it shattered and glided across the floor. The room was silent, all eyes darted to the couple to the back.  There Amelia stood gasping for air and sobbed, “Stop cutting me off and let me speak for once!!”

Amelia’s eyes widened as she noticed everyone’s looks of shock; blush crept on her face and she bit down on her lip.  She ducked down and her heels stomped as she rushed to the door, bursting through it she started to run. Trudging through the snow she recalls a time that made her remember the reason she’s here with John to this day.  She doubted if he even remembers what happened back then on that seemingly insignificant afternoon, but it was something that resonated with her even now. She headed to his place after a bad day at work and they hung out like usual.  She was still distressed over work and was trying to ignore it, but any effort to do so wasn’t working. Except when all he did was give her a hug, something he’d done dozens of time before, but this time made her realize how much of an impact he has on her.  Everything frustrating about that day seemed to relax and melt away.

At that same time John was in the restaurant, he stood up, puts some money down on the table, and headed after her.  The snow at this point was plummeting down whiting out the road in front of Amelia. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the ferocity of the snow storm.  Feeling overwhelmed her chest heaved as she tried to calm down. John ran to her and she started started to break down “I’m just so sick of this shit! I’m so worn out! I’m just so tired!” She was fighting back tears.  “I’m so sick of the constant fighting and yelling!” Amelia turns away from John and tires to walk back to the car. He grabs her shoulders and looks her in the eyes. She covers her hands over her face and starts to bawl.  Amelia’s hand starts to shake as she frantically looks around; she clutches her stomach, struggling to breath. “Amelia what’s wrong?!” John asks her, worry crossing over his face. She tries to push him away, but his grip remains.  She gasps for air as she tries to speak between her cries, “I’m pregnant and I’m not even sure if it’s yours!”